The Arch-Mage's Son
by PenultimatePotato
Summary: Decades after his bitter departure from the College of Winterhold, a former student returns in the early hours of the morning to finally reconcile forty years of grievances with the dying Arch-Mage. (Reviews highly appreciated!)
1. Prologue

_He looked desperately into his former mentor's eyes. "I just want to know...why." Lifting his frail head, the old Altmer met the younger elf's gaze boldly. "It was because...he was everything I could never have…"_

_Long after his bitter departure from the College of Winterhold, a former student returns in the night in order to finally reconcile forty years of grievances with the dying Arch-Mage and put his mind at ease._

* * *

**THE ARCH-MAGE'S SON  
_Prologue_**

* * *

_Sundas, 30__th__ day of First Seed, 4E 315 _

For the first time in decades, it seemed, the dark skies above Winterhold were not blocked out from view by a raging blizzard of ice. It was preferable weather, at least, compared to what the few remaining residents of Winterhold had experienced in the past. But to anyone else, the ice still had not melted, the winds had not died down, and the perpetual bitter cold that lingered in those far northern reaches of the province still remained.

The sun had not yet risen as the rickety carriage neared the town. Craning his neck, Telindil could just make out the dark form of the College of Mages looming over the town in the distance. It was just as he had remembered it from all those years ago; an imposing behemoth fortress with carved spires, taller than anything he had ever seen before– the only remainder of Winterhold's former glory.  
_To think he'd ever want to come back to this place… and to see the Arch-Mage of all people!_ _Bah! _Telindil shifted in his seat. _No, it was no matter. The old Altmer was sick and he was here to reconcile with him._His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the carriage driver abruptly pulling up the horses. As he began to re-straighten his frayed travelling robes, the gruff Nord carriage driver at the front turned bluntly to face him.

"Wha? Got a dirt speck on yer dress yeh poncy high elf? Heh! It ain't much use." he laughed heartily, reaching over to take a swig of ale from a skin. As he put the skin back down, Telindil swear he could see the ale freeze on the Nord's whiskers. "Ah, well. I suppose you'd want to get goin'," the driver continued, "Up to that College… Oh please, hear me out, ser, unless you'd got some real important business with the mages this late at night, I'd advise against going near that place. The mages– "

Telindil quickly silenced the driver with a small pouch of coins he had prepared earlier. As a matter of fact, he had business in the College and he did not have precious time to waste. The carriage driver eyed the pouch of coins before emptying the gold into his own pouch and looking at Telindil sadly. Telindil turned away and sighed. Though he loved the ways that magic could be used for good, Telindil understood all too well why the local Nords feared and shunned mages. He thought back to his terrible last years in the College. _Ugh. _He clenched his fists and shook himself._ No, no, no. He mustn't let it get to him now._

"Well, if you ever need to be gettin' out anytime soon," the carriage driver slurred, "You just look out fer me." And with that, he climbed off the front of the carriage and lumbered through the snow to a weather-battered inn, leaving Telindil alone in the cold.

The winds began to slowly pick up again. Telindil shivered and, wrapping his frayed travelling robes around his body in an effort to keep warm, he began to slog through the single, snow-covered road through the town as quickly as he could. As difficult as it was, he remembered from his younger years that walking across the thick snow in Winterhold was safe compared to the path leading up to the College of Mages. Looking up at ahead of him past the creaking houses in town, he could see that the narrow stone bridge seemed to have been beaten even more into a state of disrepair by the centuries and it lay crumbling across the chasm between Winterhold and the College. He was almost at the stone bridge when he noticed a few guardsmen chatting around a small fire. He initially paid no attention to them but as he passed and listened to what they were saying, his ears pricked up.

"Fjorld, Fjorld! Would you just look up at that! The sky behind the College is lit up all purple. Ain't that pretty? But I've got to admit, it looks mighty sinister like that."

"The damn place always looks sinister. It's been cursing the whole of Winterhold for decades now. Ain't nothing good ever happened to this town because of it. First, the whole city just mysteriously falls off the cliff. Great Collapse, they called it, no doubt caused by the mages. Then, years after that, townsfolk started disappearing and even some of the mages too. It seems fitting the gods finally cracked down on the Arch-Mage now– I hear he's sick or mad!"

"No, no. It's much worse. _Dying_, I heard he's dying. And gone mad too, yes. I overheard some mages in the inn saying that the old elf's gone insane. Ranting and raving like a madman, not drinking or eating or anything! He'll be dead soon, I bet– "

And that was it. Telindil had heard enough. He was never really one to believe any of the gossip that came from townsfolk or guardsmen but if what guard had said about Arch-Mage's frail health had been true, he didn't have much time before the old elf passed. _Oh, by the Eight…_ Was he too late?  
All of a sudden, Telindil forgot the dangerous chasm and the Sea of Ghosts below the bridge and stormed up to the College, grabbing onto what remaining stone rails were left for support. After passing a few unlit magical beacons along the bridge, he finally stopped, panting and out of breath, at the wrought-iron gates of the College. The heavy gates remained shut and for what seemed an eternity, he waited anxiously for them to open. Nothing. Then, he realised. _Gods!_ _How stupid of him to forget about the gates! _The decades he spent away from the College meant they were probably never going to open and if the Arch-Mage had still not forgotten... _Oblivion take him! _The heavy iron gates used to make him feel so safe behind the walls of the College and now, they barred his way, wasting precious time. The Arch-Mage could be dead already and he'd never be able to talk to him. He beat his fists on the bars and cried out as the cold winds blew past him.

"Who goes there?" a male voice suddenly came from the darkness in front of him. Telindil looked up. From behind the iron gates stood a stout middle-aged Imperial mage. The man conjured a ball of Magelight in his hand right, and waved it violently in Telindil's face through the bars. Then, after eyeing him from head to toe, examining every inch of his frayed travelling robes and frostbitten skin, the Imperial wrinkled his pudgy face. "Hmph. You're not some belligerent local come to complain about us but it's not even dawn yet and you're standing here making that kind of racket! _You're _obviously not from the College so you'd better explain yourself. Quickly now!"

"I was from the College, a long time ago," Telindil replied loudly. In the dim light, he could not make out the exact identity of the Imperial but he seemed familiar… In the dim light, he could just make out the Imperial's beady eyes darting around curiously. "Used to be from the College, you say? Well, judging from _this,_" he rattled the bars of the closed gate and squinted his eyes, "The Arch-Mage does not seem to want you in here. What's your name?"  
"Telindil. I was a student here about sixty years ago but I left about twenty after that," he looked down at the Imperial, "And as a matter of fact, I came to visit the Arch-Mage."  
Suddenly, upon hearing his name, the stout man's eyes widened. "Telindil…?" he stammered out, "Is that really you? Why, it's been so long! It's me, Claudio! You know, little Claudio Curio from two classes below?" He recast his fading ball of Magelight to get a better view. "And why, you look so different! I was always so used to seeing you wearing your bright Adept robes," he peered through the bars of the gate, "And you're so old!" Then, catching himself, Claudio quickly held his mouth and apologized. Telindil sighed. It was true. Though he was young, at least in Altmer years, the stresses he experienced later in life had cost him his looks. His the glowing skin he had in his youth had become dull and small lines had begun to appear on his thin face. His once light-coloured hair had darkened into a mousy colour over the decades and now even sported a few strands of grey.

"Look I'm so, so sorry about that. Oh goodness, but I really loved your work. That steel dagger you enchanted for the Arch-Mage? I remember seeing it on his desk years ago! Where is it now? Gods, I hope he's still got it around somewhere. I'll be so sad if he's sold it." _By the Eight divines! Did he ever shut up? _Telindil gave another exasperated sigh as Claudio continued. He just didn't have the heart to tell him to be quiet. The stout, jolly Imperial that stood before him brought back painful memories of an old friend, many, many years ago...  
"I don't even know why you left the College! The Arch-Mage thought you were the best, yes! Oh wait. Well, maybe the Arch-Mage thought that whats-his-face was the best at everything but I never really liked him." At that last comment, Telindil tensed up. He quickly turned to the pudgy Imperial before him and waved his hand. The man suddenly fell silent. "_Thank you_, Claudio. But do you mind?" he rattled the bars of the gate, "I have urgent business with the Arch-Mage. I know he's ill but that's why I've come. It can't wait."

"Yes, yes. Right you are." Claudio cast a spell at the gate which Telindil did not recognise. Finally, the great iron gates creaked open and Telindil followed the waddling Claudio into through the frozen courtyard. "I don't know what you've got to tell the Arch-Mage," Claudio said, "But it's probably really important if you can't wait 'till dawn." They stopped just outside the entrance to the main. Telindil eyed the great wooden doors to the hall. "You probably still know the way through the Hall of the Elements," Claudio picked up again, "But I'll have to escort you to the Arch-Mage's Quarters. You know, just in case someone sees you. This way, they won't give you any trouble because you're with me." As they stepped into back the Hall of Elements, the sight of his old school almost took Telindil's breath away. No matter how many times he had seen the Hall of the Elements, even after forty years, it still never failed to amaze him. The giant vaulted ceiling, the tall glass windows, the marble floor– Telindil still remembered the early years in the College in this hall fondly. He took a step forward.

"No, not there! This way!" Claudio suddenly voiced out, bringing Telindil back. Claudio motioned with a fat palm in the direction of a small stone door on the left. "Now you've just got to keep quiet because I'll get into trouble for leading you up there. The Arch-Mage is sick but the others won't hesitate to give me a good scolding. Now come on!" And, sighing with relief and some nervous anticipation, Telindil slowly climbed up the dark stairs leading to the Arch-Mage's Quarters.

* * *

"Arch-Mage? I know it's a bit early in the morning, but there's someone who wants to see you." Claudio whispered into the room nervously. Telindil brushed past him. Seeing the Arch-Mage's Quarters after forty years brought back memories. It was still grand and expansive but, he noticed, it was nothing like it used to be. Everything was so dim and… _empty_. The bright balls of Magelight which used to hover over the centre of the room had been left to fade, and only a few candles kept the room lit. The once bountiful small alchemical garden seemed to have been left to wither with only a few wilting plants remaining. And the shelves on the walls, which, Telindil remembered, once held a multitude of the Arch-Mage's personally crafted potions, were almost completely bare except for the few dusty cobwebs which had accumulated over the years. It was terrible how he had completely neglected it over the years. _Had he really let himself fall so far?  
_A tired groan followed by a series of wheezing coughs interrupted Telindil's thoughts. The Imperial walked slowly behind the stone wall that separated the Arch-Mage's bed from the antechamber, beckoning impatiently for Telindil to follow.

"Oh, Claudio…is that you? Who is there? Who has come to visit me…?"

As Telindil walked into the smaller room, he finally saw him; his old teacher, lying still on a large bed, slumped against a worn wooden headboard. He was a pitiful, withered husk of an Altmer, with a few remaining wisps of white hair on his speckled head and a long, tangled grey beard. The old elf slowly turned his head on the pillow and squinted in his direction. Telindil noticed that the Arch-Mage's grey eyes, which were once so bright and knowledgeable, were now dull and bloodshot. _By the Eight divines, he looks terrible. _"Please…I can't see him very well…" the old mage croaked weakly.  
"Well sir," Claudio started, "He's one of your old students, a good one, if you don't mind me adding. But I suppose it's to be expected, him being a high elf and all… " All of a sudden, the old mage suddenly cried out so loudly that it made the two almost jump back in shock.

"Oh…oh my goodness… is it really you?" he cried, his dull eyes suddenly lighting up with joy, "Have you come back to see… me?" His voice faded away and he began trying to sit up. "Ah well, I suppose I should leave the both of you now," Claudio said quietly and quickly turned to leave the room. Telindil quickly rushed ahead and knelt by his old teacher's bedside.

"I've… I've missed you so much…" the old mage croaked, "I think…I've missed you the most…" Telindil gently looked into his old teacher's tired face. _Did he really miss me this much? _He thought hopefully._ Did he… finally move on? _"How many years… how many years! And you're finally back!" the Arch-Mage cried out happily and he slowly lifted a withered skeletal hand to brush aside Telindil's mousy hair. Telindil gave a quivering smile.  
"I came as soon as I heard you were ill. You still remember me, sir?" he said gently and looking into the old elf's eyes, he saw that there were tears of joy in them though strangely, he noticed, they did not look back at him directly. Telindil pushed the minor thought aside. "Do you still remember me? I was your student. You were tough and demanding but you still taught me so much."  
"Ah! Oh, how could I– how could I possibly forget!" the old mage cried out and, after giving a heaving, wheezing cough, he smiled feebly, "I always knew you were…were the best! Ha ha! You were the best…"

Telindil almost stepped back. "Really?" he asked, almost in disbelief, "Truly? All that time, did you really think that I was the best? Better than– " He stopped. _Better not spoil the moment. _The old mage did not seem to notice his gaffe and gave a quivering smile. "Nothing but my…best!" he gasped, "My best student!" Telindil looked into the Arch-Mage's eyes. Then, he smiled victoriously and began to laugh. _Divines bless_ _him!_ _When was the last time I was this happy? _He thought. _He knew it! He always knew that he was the best student! _Telindil looked back down at the old elf's face to see him chuckling along with him._ Oh, finally! It took him forty years to move on and realise it but now…now he appreciates me! Gods, I should never have left the College, I should have stayed and shown him more of my talents with magic, make him forget everything to do with_–

"My son! You…you were like a son to me. Wait, no! You _were _my son! Ha ha! My son…" the Arch-Mage exclaimed happily, and reached out from the bed towards Telindil. Telindil stopped laughing. _His… son? He never thought of me that way, we were never that close_– _No, something was not right. _He slowly moved back, out of the Arch-Mage's reach. "Heh…heh… wha…?" the Arch-Mage cried out, surprised, "My boy, I can't… seem reach you. Have you moved away?" He looked around blindly and began flail desperately. "My boy! Where are you?" Then, the old elf made one last fruitless grasp at the empty air before his arms sank down, exhausted. With small tears beginning to form in his bloodshot eyes, he finally gasped out a name. "Malvasian?"

"WHAT?!" Telindil stood up suddenly. _Malvasian?! The old fool had mistaken him for MALVASIAN?! _"No, you idiot!" he yelled, "I came all this way to visit you! It's me, Telindil! Telindil!" He pointed at himself furiously, panting. "Malvasian is dead! You hear me? He's been dead for years and years and he'll stay dead! He's dead!"

The old mage lay unmoving on the bed, dull eyes staring up at the high stone ceiling. Nothing. Telindil stared, panting. Eventually, the old mage slowly turned to face him. "Telindil? Oh it's you, Telindil…" His wrinkled lips quivered. "Do… do you know where he is? My son, Malvasian…"  
And that was it. Telindil snapped and flew at him in a blinding rage. "He's not your son! You don't have a son!" he screamed, almost grabbing the Arch-Mage's body and shaking him, "Malvasian was a corrupt and reckless idiot! Why him?! Over _me?_" He was almost in tears. Finally, exhausted and out of breath, Telindil sank down against the wall to the cold stone floor. Looking over to the bed, he noticed that the old elf was in a state of shock; eyes wide open and gasping for breath. Telindil saw how it was. He sighed, shaking in frustration. There was no way that this gasping and senile old elf would give him the answers he had been looking for so long. Slowly, he rose dejectedly from the floor and left the bedchamber.

* * *

"Drink." Telindil said flatly, and held a frosted white bottle to the old elf's lips. _The White Phial_, _kindly donated to the College decades ago by the Hero of Skyrim, _if he remembered his studies. _Perhaps its fabled healing powers will shake this damned fool's wits together for a short while. _"Drink," Telindil ordered again, this time, with more force. The old mage did not (or could not) protest and drank reluctantly. Telindil watched on as he heaved and gagged in disgust and then, finally, shook himself into a more conscious state. _Good. _The he turned to face Telindil directly.

"Forty years, Telindil. No contact for forty years and you come back only when you hear that your old teacher is dying," he breathed out weakly. Telindil noticed a hint of resentment in his voice. _Had he remembered everything I said earlier? _"I know...you were always good to me. Have you come to say your goodbyes?"  
Telindil did not look at the Arch-Mage. "I just want to know _why_. Why do you still worship _him_?" He spat out the word 'him' with venom. "It's been forty damned years! Oblivion take you! All my life in the College I spent just trying to prove to you that I was a worthy student. And for what? What the hell did Malvasian do so _brilliantly _that you were completely blinded by him and forgot about loyal students like me? Good people died, you fool!" Telindil turned to face his former teacher, and looked desperately into his eyes, trying to find an answer. "I just want to know…_why_," he whispered, his voice wavering.

The Arch-Mage, lifting his frail head, met Telindil's gaze boldly. What seemed an eternity passed but at last, he spoke. "It was only because…that boy was everything I could never have…" A few tears began to slide through the deep wrinkles around the old mage's eyes before his head sank back down into his pillow.


	2. Disappointment and Great Regret

**CHAPTER 1:  
****_Disappointment a__nd Great_**_** Regret**_

* * *

_55 years earlier - Morndas, 2nd__ day of Sun's Dusk, 4E 260_

If the infamous Winterhold weather was bad enough throughout the rest of year, wintertime was simply unbearable. The roaring, biting winds and the constant snowfall transformed the vaulted rooms of the College into a place that was more suitable for preserving fresh meat. And, of course, did nothing to improve the spirits of the inhabitants within.  
In the Hall of Elements, a group of young mage students huddled together for warmth and unfortunately, to also form some kind of invisible barrier against the currently raging temper of Arch-Mage. The Arch-Mage was a tall, thin and imposing Altmer who seemed to wear a permanent scowl on his brow– definitely not one chosen for his patience.

"By the Eight divines! We have spent the whole week trying to master this one firespell, and not even half of you have come close to perfecting it!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "_This is exactly why I never wanted to be Arch-Mage._" he whispered quietly to himself, and secretly cursed the Hero of Skyrim for refusing the position and forcing it onto him all those years ago. Then, after taking a deep breath, he looked up and scrutinized the pile students before him. It seemed that too few had even paid any attention to his lessons and even less were taking notes and…_By the Eight divines! Had that one just picked his nose? _

"Destruction magic," he resumed sternly, pacing along the front of the group, "Is something that must be mastered as soon as possible! Should any of _you_ somehow find yourselves working as professional mages in the future by some sheer miracle, you absolutely cannot rely on the one flame spell. And now, let us start again for the umpteenth time." The Arch-Mage carefully scanned his eyes for a while over the back row of the group. _Who on Nirn would think that this lot were __**Adept **__mage scholars? _At last, he spotted a mop of brown hair bobbing behind the rows of heads. "You there, Louis!" he clapped his hands, "Out front, please. Now, show me the fireball spell again and for goodness sake, make sure it does not singe the sleeves of your robes this time."  
All of a sudden, the students turned around to face a pale adolescent Breton who was now sheepishly crouching behind the people in front of him. The boy's brown eyes darted around nervously and he sank back slowly to edge closer to his friend.

"Telindil!" breathed anxiously, trying to catch his friend's attention. Telindil, a golden-skinned, bright-eyed Altmer youth, was rushing to copy down the Arch-Mage's lecture notes. _Oh,_ _not this again…  
_"_Telindiiil…_"  
"Louis, what?" Telindil replied impatiently and moved quickly to brush back his light hair out of his face. "Look, just go up. I'm still trying to finish my notes…" Louis just tugged desperately on Telindil's sleeve. "The Arch-Mage just called me up! What the hell do I do?" he whispered worriedly, "I haven't managed to learn the spell properly yet!" Telindil gave an exasperated sigh and reluctantly tore his eyes away from his notes to face Louis.  
"Come on, Louis, it will be fine," Telindil whispered back, trying to give his friend a reassuring smile. "We've read about this spell loads of time together, remember? Don't be nervous." He gave Louis a small nudge towards the front of the group. "Just show the Arch-Mage what you can do. I know he can be a bit tough but– "  
"A _bit_ tough?!" Louis moved back behind Telindil. "He made me stay three hours after class for a whole week the last time I messed up a spell! He's not tough, he's– _draconian!_"  
"Gods, Louis! That's the only way you can get better at magic! Just walk up– no-no Louis! Breathe. Calm down. Just– "

"Will you two stop at once!" the Arch-Mage's voice boomed suddenly, making the almost two boys jump in fright. "Telindil! Cease diverting young Master Gabèrne's attention, and _Master Gabèrne_…_" _he drew out the syllables of Louis' name with impatience, "Get up here. I will not repeat myself. _Do not_ make me repeat myself." Telindil scowled slightly at Louis, who smiled sheepishly and mouthed back 'sorry'. Then, he turned to the front and trudged slowly towards the Arch-Mage with his head bowed and his mop of brown hair bobbing up and down. Telindil sighed and smiling, he shook his head.

He and Louis were almost polar opposites, both in terms of personality and skill with magic. On one hand, there was Telindil; a hard-working and bright young Altmer, descended from a long line of Summurset mages, who wanted nothing more than to just prove his worth to his superiors. And on the other hand, there was Louis; the easy-going son of two Skyrim-based Breton merchants and, Telindil guessed, was probably only at the College for no other purpose that that _he just liked magic_. Though the two boys knew were totally different, they soon found that their differences only meant that they balanced each other out and, in the five years they spent together at the College, they managed to develop an inseparable friendship.  
Telindil craned his neck to get a view of Louis, who had now managed to make his way to the front and was, no doubt, about to feel the wrath of the Arch-Mage if he messed this up...

"All of you, stand clear!" the Arch-Mage called out and Telindil watched as he shooed away the group with a flourish of his hand. Telindil used the opportunity to ease his way to the front of the group. "While we may be learning the art of destruction magic," the Arch-Mage continued, "It will do no good for the College's reputation among the local Nords for them to see one of our students being hauled off to The Chill for accidentally burning his fellow mages alive." At last, he turned to face Louis and almost immediately, everyone in the room flinched. Telindil watched anxiously. He hoped everything would go well but if this was anything like Louis' last attempt at this spell, he would probably need bit more than new sleeves on his robe.  
Louis took a deep breath, lifted his quivering hands in front of him and prepared the spell.

The raging ball of fire that everyone was expecting never came. Instead, just one pitiful fireball streamed from his hands, where it hit the ground a second later with a soft _poof!_ Louis stood still in horror and his eyes suddenly darted upwards from his hands to the Arch-Mage then over to the crowd, where he desperately sought out his friend's reassuring smile, hoping as though it would somehow save him. To Louis' disappointment, he found nothing of the sort. Instead, he only saw Telindil in the front row, casting his eyes dejectedly downwards. All a sudden, a thin hand from the side grabbed Louis' arm forcefully and turned him abruptly to the side, where he found himself standing face to face with the Arch-Mage.

"That was pitiful, boy!" the Arch-Mage breathed menacingly, his piercing grey eyes staring directly into the Breton boy's brown ones. Louis cringed. But before he could even apologize, the Arch-Mage finally loosened his grip. "But I must say _this_," he spoke, much softer this time, "It was a hell of a lot better than last time." As the Arch-Mage turned to face the rest of the class, Louis finally managed to find Telindil in the crowd. _He was smiling at him! _And, from behind the Arch-Mage's back, Louis gave his friend a goofy shrug.

"Now listen to me, all of you! Do not think for once that I am actually pleased at any of this." The Arch-Mage resumed his sermon gravely, and the brief moment of lightheartedness suddenly withered away. With cold, stern eyes, he eyed every single one of the fearful students in the room. "I will not tolerate the sloth of the past few weeks any longer and now, all of you will stay here for as long as it takes for you to master this spell– and you _will _master this!" And with that, the Arch-Mage moved to the back of the room and with arms crossed, he looked intently at the group of shifting students.

"Please, do not disappoint me."

* * *

"Thank the gods! That cranky bastard's_ finally_ let us out!" Louis breathed exasperatedly as he walked briskly out of the Hall of the Elements. "I was beginning to think that we'd miss dinner!"

"Gee, Louis, don't call him _that_," Telinidil replied, and walked faster to catch up with his friend. "He just has high standards, that's all. I'm sure he believes that all of us have potential to be great mages on day." Louis stopped and turned to raise an eyebrow at him. Telindil's eyes widened. "Oh what, come on! Don't look like that," he said, trying to keep his friend's hopes up, "You're a Breton! You've got plenty of potential with magic and besides; I've seen you do really well before." He personally didn't dislike the Arch-Mage as Louis did. Sure, the Altmer had quite a high standard but meeting it was something that Telindil felt that he needed to strive for, not just complain about and brush off. In fact, he highly doubted that he would be anywhere as good at magic as he was now if the Arch-Mage hadn't constantly pushed him over the years. "You just need to work a little harder."  
"Easy for you to say, Telindil. You're doing fine," Louis replied sadly and cast his eyes down to the floor. "I'm not. Now come on, let's get to dinner quickly before everyone takes all the good food." And with that, he pushed open the large doors to the courtyard. As a strong gust of wind and snow blew into the hall, the two boys pulled their hoods down and began to walk back to their dormitories.

"Wait!" a voice from behind them cried suddenly. Telindil and Louis turned around to see a grandfatherly Nord with rosy cheeks hobbling down the stairs to meet them. "Wait!" the elder cried again, "Young ones… just, close the door…for a second." He then leaned on a nearby wall to catch his breath. Telindil and Louis quickly closed the door, and rushed over to him.

"Master Onmund! Is something the matter, sir?" Telindil asked, and offered out his hand to help the old mage. Master Onmund gave a wrinkly smile to the two boys. "Oh…nothing is the matter, young one. I just wanted to give this back to you." He reached into his robe and pulled out a bundle of fabric fastened with some string then handed it to Telindil. Telindil slowly untied the string to reveal a steel dagger with a slight green glow around the blade. Louis craned his neck to have a peek and then seeing it, his expression turned to one of amazement. "It's the dagger you enchanted during your private lesson with me a few weeks ago and I must say, Telindil, it is certainly a fine piece of enchanting," Master Onmund continued, "In fact, I think you should even show it to the Arch-Mage. I'm sure he'll be very pleased with your work." Telindil looked up bright-eyed at Master Onmund. _Master Onmund was always supportive of everyone's work but to say that it was even worth showing the Arch-Mage? Gods!_

"Why… why thank you, sir!" Telindil replied quickly, and refolded the fabric over the dagger. "I'll show it to him as soon as I can!" Master Onmund chuckled and then noticing Louis, who was looking at the package with just a hint of jealousy, the old mage suddenly remembered something. "By the way, young ones, I received some letters from a courier earlier this afternoon but I couldn't hand them to you while you were still with the Arch-Mage," he continued. He reached back into his robe, pulled out a short pile of neatly folded letters and handed one to Louis. "Judging from the handwriting and the seal on the envelope, this was sent by your parents from Solitude." Louis quickly opened the letter and read it.  
"Thanks sir! Oh, it _is_ from my parents!" he said excitedly after short while, "They're saying they want me back in Solitude for the Yuletide break! Ha! No more cold weather for a while. Oh, I'll miss you though, Telindil." Louis looked up at him with beaming smile but Telindil only managed a small smile back. He sometimes wished that he was back in Alinor with his parents, Thalmor be damned.

"Ah! And this– " Master Onmund piped up again, and Telindil turned to face him as he took out a second letter. _Could this be from_ _my parents too? _He'd been waiting for a message from them for years now. "This letter… is from Cyrodiil, for the Arch-Mage. I figured if that you were going up to show him your work, you could just hand this in to him. Heh, you're much stronger than an old man like me! I can't climb those stairs as well as I used to..." Telindil stared blankly at Master Onmund then slowly took the letter from his hands. _It was a fool's hope anyway, after so many years…  
_"Well, I'm afraid I've been keeping you two from your dinner for far too long now," Master Onmund said, "I hope you two enjoy the rest of your evening. Goodbye now!" Telindil watched him hobble away.

"Glad that's done," Louis suddenly piped up from behind him, "Well come on, Telindil! We've missed so much of dinner already and I'm starving!" Telindil didn't flinch. "I'll come along later," he said, "I don't feel hungry right now, Louis." He turned around slowly to face his friend, who was staring at him with a look of confusion. "Save me some food, will you?" Louis smirked. "Course. I'll save it in my stomach." He grinned and ran out through the doors of the hall laughing. Telindil felt a gust of cold wind and snow on his face before the doors shut with a thud. Then, slipping the letter into his robes and clutching the bundle close to his chest, he ran up the stairs leading to the Arch-Mage's Quarters.

* * *

Telindil eyed the huge copper door to the Arch-Mage's Quarters from top to bottom. It was a beautiful piece of metalwork with elaborate casting, further accentuated by the beautiful shade of teal the copper had turned during the centuries. Telindil breathed out and lifted a tentative hand to knock on the door. He waited. Nothing. He knocked again, this time, louder. Finally, he heard the Arch-Mage's rushed voice:

"Yes-yes please! Just wait just for a moment! Just wait– fine! Enter!"

Telindil walked into the room tentatively. The Arch-Mage's Quarters was brightly lit with candles and a few hovering balls of Magelight. _Gods, it's beautiful… _Telindil thought and continued to look around the room. In the centre, there was a small private garden where the Arch-Mage grew exotic plants of all difference colours and textures to use in his potions, which lined the shelves almost from floor to ceiling. At last, he spotted the Arch-Mage at the back of the room rushing to carefully place a stack of old parchment back into a small cabinet. Telindil saw him take out a key that hung on a chain around his neck, and quickly lock the drawer.

"Ah sir, is this a bad time to see you?" Telindil asked, looking at the drawer and then back up to the Arch-Mage. _He seems to be in a much nicer mood now_. However, even the Arch-Mage was relatively even-tempered with who he felt were the few decent and hardworking students at the College. He sighed and walked towards Telindil, shaking his head. "No, no. It is not a bad time but…" he paused, "Why are you not at dinner with the other students, Telindil? Why, what is that bundle you have there?" Telindil gulped and slowly handed the Arch-Mage the bundle. The Arch-Mage took it and eyed it curiously before unwrapping the bundle and revealing the enchanted dagger. _This is it, _Telindil thought nervously as he watched the Arch-Mage pick the dagger up and slowly examine it. After a while, he turned to Telindil and still holding the dagger, he asked "Yours?"

"Uh well…yes, sir," Telindil stammered out, "I enchanted that a few weeks ago during one of Master Onmund's private lessons. He recommended that I show it to you." The Arch-Mage raised an eyebrow. "Indeed… Sit," he spoke suddenly, gesturing in the direction of two chairs sitting side by side. Telindil was taken completely off guard. _Does this mean…? _He moved to the chairs and sat down. The Arch-Mage joined him and placed the dagger on a low table to his side.

"It is no doubt a good piece of enchanting, Telindil. Nothing to be ashamed of," he said calmly. Telindil bit his lip to suppress a smile that was forming at the corners of his mouth. _By the Gods! He was praising him! The Arch-Mage was praising him! _ "It was good of you to go to Master Onmund for a private lessons when you found that I was not available," he continued, "You have initiative which, sadly, is very rare to come by nowadays." He Arch-Mage paused. "You have…" Telindil leaned forward, eagerly waiting for what the Arch-Mage would say next.

"Potential. You have a lot of potential. You are a fine student, Telindil. Keep on working and eventually, you may become a great mage." _What? _Telindil frowned slightly. He had expected something a bit better than that. The Arch-Mage moved his hand over to the enchanted dagger on the side. _Well, potential wasn't entirely a bad thing and it left room for improvement…_

"Here, I expect you would be wanting this back now so you can head to dinner." The Arch-Mage had re-bundled the dagger and was now handing it back to him. "No please, you can keep it, Arch-Mage," Telindil spoke, "I want you to have something to compare my future work with." The Arch-Mage chuckled and thanked him quietly. "Well, Telindil, I don't want to keep you here any longer unless, of course, there is anything else you would like to show me?" Telindil cocked his head. _Oh, right! _Telindil reached into his robe and pulled the letter out.

"Master Onmund also told me to bring you this. He says it's from Cyrodiil." All of a sudden, the Arch-Mage's eyes lit up. "Cyrodiil, you say?" he said and got out of his chair quickly, "Please give it here." Telindil handed the letter tentatively to the Arch-Mage, who eagerly snatched it and started to break the wax seal. Telindil just noticed the beginnings of a smile on the Arch-Mage's lips. "Thank you. You may leave for your dinner now." Telindil nodded and left the room quietly, carefully closing the heavy door. _Well then… _Just as he was about to make his way back down the stairs, he heard a sorrowful cry of from the Arch-Mage's room.

_"Oh no… oh please, not this… NO! GODS WHY?!"_

When Telindil finally threw open the great wooden doors of the hall and stumbled into the freezing courtyard, he heard no more of the anguished sobs of the Arch-Mage echoing around the hall as they were overcome by the howling winter winds.


End file.
